By Elaine Cassel
Lance Armstrong writes that
his winning the Tour de France two years after he had less than a 3 percent
chance of surviving metastasized testicular cancer (he has since won it three
more times) has nothing to do with the bike, but is about surviving and living
life to the fullest. How did he survive
and become a four-time consecutive winner of bicycle’s most grueling race?
Twenty-five-year-old Lance
Armstrong was already a world-class professional bicyclist who earned upwards
of $2 million a year. When he learned
that he had a “galloping” version of metastasized testicular cancer, he did
what his mother had taught him to do: make every adversity a challenge to
overcome.
To deal with the diagnosis,
he brought to bear all the tenacity of his training methods, as well as his
biological predispositions and learned traits. Three months after chemotherapy so intense that it burned his skin from
the inside out, he was planning what to do in his new identity as a cancer
survivor. Wasting no time, he got
married, fathered children with sperm frozen before his cancer treatments,
established the Lance Armstrong Foundation for cancer survivors, won four
consecutive victories in the Tour de France and is planning for his fifth
attempt in 2003. At the end of 2002, he was named
Sports Illustrated
Sportsman of the Year and the Associated Press Male Athlete of the Year.
It’s Not About the Bike (Berkeley Pub Group, 2001) is a not-to-be missed
study in how an individual can overcome extremely short odds—not just to
survive cancer, but to be a success in life after a rocky start. Lance explains it from several
perspectives—biological, psychodynamic, learning, cognitive, humanistic, and existential.
From the biological
perspective, Lance explains that medical tests have shown that he can endure an
inordinate amount of physical stress. This genetic gift allows him to train at such an intense level and it
helped him survive the cancer treatment that could just as easily have killed
him. It is partly what makes, to the observer, his climbing the Alps in the
Tour de France look easy (he assures us that it is not). He also uses cognitive coping mechanisms to
block out pain and thoughts of failure. He wills himself (not always
successfully, of course) not to feel pain, to feel sick, or to think that he
cannot win.
From a psychodynamic
perspective, his early childhood and a loving relationship with his mother
(whose husband, and Lance’s father, left them when Lance was an infant) was a
foundation for his achieving the tasks that Erik Erikson says are important for
human development. Lance’s mother was
the single most important person in his life until he married. She has been with him every step of his
life-and-death struggle and now she enjoys his victories. She worked at two
low-paying jobs to take care of young Lance, and she (and Lance) survived her
marriage to a man who routinely physically abused Lance and emotionally and
verbally abused her. She taught Lance
to take each adversity as a challenge to overcome it. And overcome adversity
they both did—through hard work, determination, and a belief in themselves.
Lance’s first foray into
sports was cross-country running and triathlons. He was not a team sports type,
but he expressly remembers wanting to achieve greatness (what Erikson might
call industry) at a sport. His early
successes in these endeavors in junior-high and high school laid the foundation
for his feats as a bicyclist. He
achieved identity as a professional bicyclist, and he experienced intimate
relationships, both romantic and close friendships.
His early adulthood was the
epitome of generativity. He became a
professional bicyclist who earned a seven-figure income and had built himself a
mansion outside of Austin, Texas. He was living well. The moment or two that he
allowed himself to think about possibly dying when given the prognosis of
recovering from cancer, he felt integrity about his life. Indeed, his thoughts
perfectly describe Erikson’s definition of integrity at the end of life—he
would have done some things differently, but overall, he felt that he had done
his best with the challenges and blessings of his life.
He credits his survival of
cancer to doctors, nurses, medical technology, and his mother and then fiancé
(whom he did not go on to marry) who stayed by him. He did his part by never
allowing himself to believe that he would die. The book talks much about the power of belief in overcoming huge odds,
and he practices and preaches that power today.The effect of a positive outlook is something psychologists study
as part of the body-mind connection. A new field of psychological inquiry,
positive psychology, is delving more into how optimism and positive thinking
(which Lance has in abundance) contribute to a happy life.
Lance struggled with the
existential dilemma of why he should have cancer. He came up with several
reasons. Cancer taught him how to live.
It taught him how to identify with fellow cancer survivors; it taught him that
life is a gift that comes with no guarantee of tomorrow. Immediately after he was pronounced “cured,”
his doctor told him that he now had an obligation—an obligation as a survivor. What did this obligation entail and how
would he carry it out? He established
the Lance Armstrong Foundation for cancer survivors. The Foundation is focusing
attention on “cancer survivorship,” an emerging area of cancer treatment
concerned with helping patients live with, through, and beyond cancer.
Lance believes that his
struggle with cancer allowed him to achieve what Abraham Maslow calls the
“self-actualized person.” He
demonstrates the humanistic striving to be the best person that he can be
today. Carl Rogers says that this
achievement comes partly as a result of the “unconditional positive regard” by
others. Lance has no lack of this—from his mother, his wife and children, his
colleagues, sports’ journalists, and the public.
Other psychological topics
illustrated in the book include Lance’s description of biking as a “peak
experience,” in which he focuses all thought on the physical and mental
strategies needed to train or win. In
this state he achieves what Mihaly Csikszentmihaly calls
“flow.”
It’s Not About the Bike closes with an account of Lance’s second consecutive
Tour de France win, one in which officials who simply could not believe that he
was cycling at that level without banned substances singled him out for
repeated drug tests. His 1999 win had been looked at as a freak of nature
brought on by his cancer treatment. The 2000 win was even more implausible,
even as the history of the Tour goes (there have been very few back-to-back
winners).
Two more victories since
2000, and the disbelievers have been pretty much silenced. If they all read
It’s Not About the Bike
they would see that Lance’s cycling, like all of his life, is not driven by
ambition or greed, but by the need to be the best person he can be and to use
his success to be a “machine of hope” for people struggling with cancer.
Elaine Cassel, Marymount University and Lord Fairfax Community College